


How come you never fight?

by Rosetylars



Series: Cricverse [29]
Category: Cricket RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Domestic Disputes, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Sequence, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pat is very petty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetylars/pseuds/Rosetylars
Summary: “It was your anniversary last month, wasn’t it?” Starcy asked Pat.Pat nodded. “Yeah. Nine years together,” he grinned, tracing his wedding ring with his finger. “And past six months married, now, too.”“Jeez, that’s impressive,” Josh commented. “I can’t believe you boys have been together so long. How do you never fight?”“Well…” Pat scratched the back of his head, thinking about all of the times that statement wasn’t true.
Relationships: Pat Cummins/Mitch Marsh
Series: Cricverse [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755766
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	How come you never fight?

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is a couple of short drabbles, out of time order. They're all timestamped :)
> 
> ***  
> Some of these ideas stemmed from some late night chats with the lovely @j_obsessed! Zee, I hope you enjoy this 🥰

**November 2020, Test squad training camp**

“It was your anniversary last month, wasn’t it?” Starcy asked Pat, sipping at the Diet Coke he had left over after dinner.

Pat nodded, smiling at the thought. “Yeah. Nine years together,” he grinned, tracing his wedding ring with his finger. “And past six months married, now, too.”

“Jeez, that’s impressive,” Josh commented. “I can’t believe you boys have been together so long. How do you never fight?”

“Well…” Pat scratched the back of his head, thinking about all of the times that statement wasn’t true.

***

**Perth, 2020 off season**

Mitch knew something was wrong as soon as he woke up to an empty bed, with the curtains still shut.

Pat would _always_ open the curtains before he got up to make them a coffee.

Mitch was half asleep, but he racked his brain to try and work out what he could’ve done wrong. They had gone out for a lovely dinner, had a few drinks when they got home, enjoyed the night together... ~~Mitch was even certain Pat had finished first, last night~~.

Had he accidentally kicked Pat in his sleep for the first time ever?

Mitch groaned softly, getting out of bed.

He padded down the hallway until he reached the living/dining area, which opened out onto the verandah. The sliding door was open, and Pat was outside, looking contemplative, leaning over the railing.

Mitch didn’t know if he was welcome, but he had to work out what was up with his husband.

He stepped through the doorway, making sure to make some noise so that Pat knew he was there.

Mitch stood beside Pat, reaching up to run a hand through his sleep-mussed hair out of habit.

Pat flinched away, and Mitch stopped breathing.

“Patty?” Mitch said gently, voice hurt.

Pat shook his head, folding his arms over his chest and looking away from Mitch. “Don’t talk to me, Mitchell,” he huffed.

Mitch raised his eyebrows. So he had been right - there _was_ something wrong.

“Bub… what’s wrong?” Mitch asked.

He knew it was the wrong question as soon as the words fell from his lips.

Pat finally looked at him, but only to give him a _wow, you really are ignorant, Mitchell,_ look.

Mitch grimaced. “Baby, please help me understand,” he said gently.

Pat shook his head, huffing a sigh before turning and heading back inside without saying anything.

Mitch followed him inside, watching in horror as Pat made himself a coffee, pointedly leaving Mitch’s mug in the cupboard.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity - Pat at the kitchen island, his back to Mitch, who was at the dining table. Mitch had left his phone in the bedroom, but he was too stubborn to head back to their room and get it. So he sat there. In silence. With the sound of Pat drinking his coffee making him irrationally angry.

After what felt like forever, Pat finally acknowledged Mitch’s presence.

“Are you hungry?” Pat asked, voice flat.

Now that Mitch considered it, he was starving. “Yeah,” he replied.

“That's a shame,” Pat deadpanned, getting up from the kitchen island and heading to the bathroom for a shower… alone.

Mitch blinked, staring after him. He was in deep shit… and had no idea what he’d done.

He did get his phone, after that, and decided to send a quick text in his group chat with Shaun and Bec.

**MCM:** _I’m in big trouble and I don’t know why. He went to sleep loving me and woke up hating me_ 😰

**Shaun:** _oh god mate surely uve done sth wrong_

**MCM:** _Not this time I swear. It was an overnight thing_

**Bec:** _Oh, Mitchy. Maybe he had a bad dream about you or something?_ 😅

**MCM:** _Wait actually?_

**Bec:** _Idk, maybe. Worth asking?_

**MCM:** _Will do. Wish me luck…_

Mitch sorted out some breakfast while Pat was in the shower.

Eventually, Pat emerged. He was wearing one of Mitch’s surf hoodies and a pair of Mitch’s running shorts, and Mitch thought he looked absolutely gorgeous... until he saw the murder in Pat’s eyes.

Pat headed to the fridge to organise his own breakfast.

“I left you some watermelon,” Mitch said gently.

Pat saw the fruit on the bench, which Mitch had lovingly cut into little cubes, and removed the seeds from.

“Thank you,” Pat mumbled, still not warming up to Mitch.

When Pat was eventually sitting down with his breakfast, Mitch remembered Bec’s words, and decided to speak up.

“Bub, did you have a bad dream?”

Pat snapped his head around to face Mitch, eyes wide.

“How did you know?” Pat asked.

Mitch silently thanked whatever powers in the universe had led Bec into Shaun’s life, because she’d just saved Mitch’s relationship.

“Weird feeling,” Mitch lied.

Pat saw straight through that, but decided not to push it. “Yeah, it was a dream,” he mumbled.

Mitch was relieved that Pat had finally said a few words to him, and he didn’t want to blow it. He waited patiently for Pat to continue.

“We divorced,” Pat recalled, voice quiet, staring into his bowl.

Mitch recoiled. “What? Why?”

Pat sighed. “You shaved your head.”

The words took a few moments to sink in, and Mitch couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing in shock. “What?!”

Pat turned to him, frowning, hurt that Mitch was laughing. “It wasn’t funny.”

Mitch sobered. He worried Pat wouldn’t say any more, but after a pause, he continued.

“It was as short as you had it when I had my last stress fracture,” Pat revealed.

Mitch grimaced. He had tried to erase all photographic evidence of that haircut, but Shaun posted so rarely on his Instagram that a photo of it was still near the top of his feed.

“Hey, I promise I won’t shave it like that again,” Mitch said gently. “And we sure as hell wouldn’t divorce over it.”

Pat gave Mitch a look across the room that said he wasn’t so sure.

“Patty, I promise,” Mitch repeated, chuckling softly at the absurdity of the situation.

Mitch headed over to the kitchen island to sit beside Pat, chancing a gentle touch to Pat’s shoulder blade. “Is that what you were upset over?”

Pat looked into his bowl again, nodding.

Mitch just chuckled, reaching up to run a loving hand back through Pat’s hair. “And here I was, worrying something was _really_ wrong.”

Pat huffed a soft laugh, dropping his head forward.

“Sorry, Mitchy. I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. I was really angry,” he admitted.

Mitch nodded, scratching gently at Pat’s scalp.

“So, are we okay?” Mitch asked gently.

Pat smiled softly, nodding a fraction. “We are now. Promise you won’t shave your head?”

“I promise,” Mitch assured.

“Then yeah, we’re okay,” Pat agreed.

Mitch chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You worried me, bub.”

“Sorry,” Pat mumbled.

Mitch shrugged, pressing a gentle kiss to the point of Pat’s shoulder. “Come on. You owe me half an hour of cuddles in bed because I missed out this morning.”

Pat grinned, agreeing.

***  
 **Sydney, 2014/15 summer**

Pat was heading out to get a few things for the new house, but they still needed some ingredients for dinner.

Mitch assured Pat that he was capable of going to the supermarket while Pat got what he needed.

Pat decided to make a short shopping list, and Mitch said there wouldn’t be an issue.

Pat expected the first phone call before it came.

“Hello,” Pat chuckled to himself.

“Hi, Patty,” Mitch said.

Pat could hear the sheepish undertone to his voice.

“What’s wrong, Mitchy...”

“They’re sold out of the red pepper,” Mitch reported. “I know it’s an important part of tonight’s dinner, but they’re all out. There’s none in the aisle, I’ve looked at every label five times-“

Pat frowned. What aisle? Mitch should have been in the fresh food section. And what labels?

“What do you mean by labels?” Pat asked.

“On the pepper,” Mitch replied slowly, as if Pat were silly.

Pat scrunched his nose. “Peppers are fresh, they shouldn’t have a label,” he replied. “They’ll be in with the fruit and veggies.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Mitch asked.

“Where are you in the shop, Mitchell?”

Mitch paused. “In the condiments and seasoning aisle,” he replied. “Standing right in front of the pepper, and I promise you, there is no red pepper anywhere.”

Mitch’s mistake dawned on Pat, and if Pat didn’t laugh, he’d probably cry. He let out a strangled sobbing laugh.

“Patty?” Mitch asked, lost.

“We don’t need pepper, we need _one red pepper_ ,” Pat pointed out.

Mitch paused, taking that in. “Oh.”

Pat sighed.

When, later that afternoon, Mitch returned home with flowers for Pat _just because,_ Pat forgot all about the pepper debacle.

He did remember, later on, and reported the whole incident to Shaun.

Shaun thought it was hilarious. He would never let Mitch forget.

***

**Lockdown period, May 2020**

After their wedding, Mitch was appreciative that he and Pat got to spend so much time together - even though the time off came in unusual circumstances.

Due to the long distance nature of their relationship, the boys often didn’t know when their next chance to be together would be. Naturally, they were used to cherishing every moment together.

So, being together for an indefinite time period was somewhat a first for them.

For the first time in his life, Mitch found himself developing a few little gripes. Nothing major. He was beyond grateful to be living with his husband, especially now.

But as they sat on the couch, one night, Pat had a glass of red wine.

And Mitch thought, if Pat took fourteen tiny sips instead of one big one, one more time, he might reach over, pluck the glass from Pat’s gorgeous hands and drain the liquid himself.

“Bub, your shoulders are tense,” Pat said gently.

Mitch deflated immediately. Of course Pat could tell he was tense.

“What’s wrong?” Pat asked.

Mitch shook his head. “Nothing.”

Pat looked at him and sighed, not pushing the issue. But then he raised his glass to his lips. For the world’s smallest sip. It couldn’t have been enough to wet his lips. And Mitch lost it.

“Patrick, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re taking _very_ small sips of your wine.”

Pat raised his eyebrows, looking at Mitch with surprise. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It is, when you could just take one big sip,” Mitch huffed.

Pat frowned, putting his glass down on the coffee table, and curling into himself on the couch, pointedly turning his back on Mitch.

Naturally, Mitch melted immediately.

“No, bub, don’t be like that,” Mitch said gently, already regretting snapping.

Pat crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring him.

Mitch sighed, looking at the TV, feeling bad.

It took about ten minutes for Mitch to test the waters.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you.”

Pat looked at Mitch over his shoulder, still pouting. “I didn’t know it bothered you, the way I drink wine.”

“It shouldn’t,” Mitch agreed. “I just got a bit frustrated and took it out on you for no reason.”

Pat sighed, but he clearly wasn’t done with the guilt trip.

“I wanted to make it last, Mitchell, because it’s our special wine,” Pat told him pointedly.

Mitch racked his brains for a _special wine_ but came up empty.

“The one Shaun and Bec got us a case of, for our wedding,” Pat filled in, knowing Mitch had forgotten.

“Oh,” Mitch remembered. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t realise,” he said gently.

Pat just shook his head to himself, frustrated.

Mitch hoped they had dropped the topic, until Pat picked up his wine glass again, about five minutes later, and began taking the smallest sips physically possible.

Mitch pretended not to notice the smile threatening to break onto Pat’s lips as he did so.

Mitch’s husband was the pettiest man alive.

He loved him like mad.

*

A few days later, something that Mitch did began to tick Pat off, too. For some reason, Pat had never watched Mitch cut his nails - or if he had, he’d never taken any notice of how Mitch actually did it.

Pat was reading an article on his phone, facing the other way, while Mitch cut his nails over the kitchen bench.

Pat was going to ask him to do it over a tissue so he could wrap up the nails and throw them away, but he bit his lip. There was no need to argue over something small.

Until Mitch started clipping.

And clipping.

And clipping.

Pat had to get up and go for a walk so he didn't blow up. He decided to head outside and check the mail, but there was nothing there.

When he got back inside, he was sure Mitch would be finished.

But there he was, sitting at the bench, _still_ clipping his nails.

Pat lost it.

“How many nails do you have, Mitchell?” Pat spat.

Mitch looked up, surprised.

“What?”

Pat groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Mitch asked, concerned.

Pat hated seeing the worry in his warm brown eyes. He regretted it straight away.

“Sorry,” Pat mumbled.

Mitch blinked. “Slow down, back to the start. How many nails...?”

Pat sighed, nodding. “You’ve been clipping them for so long, it sounds like you’re cutting ten hands’ worth,” he mumbled.

Mitch chuckled softly, doing one last clip for good measure. “I’m all done now,” he placated.

“Thank god for that,” Pat sighed.

Mitch reached his arms out, encouraging Pat to join him for a hug.

Pat obliged, heading over to sit on Mitch’s lap, on the bar stool.

“Why do you do them so carefully? I just cut mine along the top,” Pat commented.

Mitch gave Pat a questioning look that Pat couldn’t read.

“What?” Pat asked, confused.

“Baby, really? After all this time?” Mitch asked, still looking at Pat strangely.

Pat had no idea what Mitch was on about. He shook his head, lost.

“Where do my fingers go?” Mitch asked, under his breath.

Suddenly, Pat realised what Mitch meant. _That’s_ why Mitch cut his nails so carefully. For Pat’s sake.

And Pat had just gotten cranky with him for no reason.

Pat decided to make it up to him. Thoroughly.

***

**November 2020, Test squad training camp**

“I suppose we do fight, sometimes,” Pat mused, while Josh and Starcy looked at him with amusement. “But it’s never usually that deep.”


End file.
